


The Best Two Yule-Days Ever (or How you theoretically celebrate the Yuletide properly)

by ElanorTheFair



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Bilbo Baggins Has the Patience of a Saint, Everybody Lives, Fluffy?, Gen, and the elves, and with Gandalf, even Thorin, pretty much everyone, the prat, tumblr secret santa 2016, with his dwarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9061474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElanorTheFair/pseuds/ElanorTheFair
Summary: This is my gift for @trihydrogen in the Tolkien Secret Santa 2016Hobbits celebrate Yule to stregthen their family-bonds, eat all the food that they couldn't preseve otherwise and have an excuse to drink.Or so told the Old Took Gandalf at his first real hobbitish Yuletide.31 years later and Bilbo tries his damn hardest to keep his dwarrows alive after the battleand nearly forgets his favorite celebration of the year. The company give the love right back to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for you trihydrogen :)  
> I'm sorry half of the characters only got mentioned in the end,  
> but I hope you like how it turned out regardless...
> 
> Some of the things Gerontius Took mentions to Gandalf are old traditions borrought from Germanic tribes from the times where Christianity got through here in Europe and the 25th was established as Christmasday (Wikipedia was my friend...^^)
> 
> I hope you enjoy the short story! The khuzdul translations are in the notes at the end...
> 
> <3 Merry Yule and Happy Christmas!

Prolog (Third Age, penultimate week of the year 1310 in Shire-reckonging)

A flock of ravens sat on the nearest tree and talked to each other.  
Their chatter mixed with the clatter of wooden toys and rambunctious laughter of fauntlings emerged in play which waved through the half-open window of Gerontius’ rooms - located in the north wing of the Great Smials and adorned with the number twelve.  
The dissonant mixture of sounds rang through the biting air of a Tuckborough well bestowed with white, knee-deep snow seemingly made out of powder. 

 

It was early afternoon and quite the time for a pipe of good Old Toby with a friend.  
Who just happened to look quizzically into the burning fire, shadows dancing over a face that had seen more adventure than any Hobbit could imagine.  
How his uninteresting self could befriend such a person of worldly-ness was a puzzle to Gerontius.  
Staggering waves of being mundane overcame him on a regular basis while being in the wizard’s company and yet - there occurred times like these when his old friend would forget his surroundings, lose himself in thoughts unknown and look more than half his age in the soft light of a fire burning low.

A screeching burst of childish laughter rang simultaneous through his wall and window. Today, the little ones were gathered inside to prepare their Julklapp presents in advance.  
As it was a gathering of different family branches, the little ones needed more time to play in exchange for their focus on creating gifts and concentration at making the multitude of wrappings around every single one.  
There was a constant stream of chattering heard trough the closed door as many of his grandchildren migrated from the Playroom to the Schoolroom and back again. 

 

Gerontius blew out a ring of smoke and sighted. The Yule week was now nearer than ever and so was, by fault, his 120th birthday next year.  
After the birth of his favorite grandson Bilbo twenty years ago - following the successful marriage of his first daughter four years prior - he could tolerate the ruckus from the little ones two rooms away better again.  
Still, living on this side of the hill didn’t make his life easier, considering that his bones started hurting more often then not, creaked at his every move and the cold creeping in through his window deepened the forsaken feeling of oldness he could not shake.  
Even his lesser need for food was a topic to discuss in a negative light these days. 

A sudden shiver ran through the Old Took’s body, thus leading to a lungful of pipe smoke and a surprised coughing fit from the geriatric Hobbit that forced a wry chuckle out of his grey clothed companion.  
„I think it wiser to end our pipes with the window closed, dear friend.  
You wouldn’t mind the fretting of your wife about that ‚confounded smoke soaked armchair of yours‘? I would not want to evoke her wrath on you light-heartedly.“, he mused and waited for a nod of approval.  
An unintelligible grumble was thrown in his direction in reply and, after half a minute of intensive studying the flowery blanket on his knees, Gerontius harrumphed, locked their eyes and gave a small nod.  
With the crow’s-feet deepening around his old, glimmering eyes Gandalf stood up from his rocking chair, laid his pipe away and carefully ducked around the lit chandelier to close the window. 

 

The ravens were reduced to mere walk-ons for the background as the cold stayed outside.  
Glancing into the snow-covered hills of the Westfarthing Olorin had a rush of sudden dread piercing directly into his heart.  
Ravens were naturally intelligent birds and had a good intuition regarding deathly situations. - Why are the ravens gathering here, talking vividly no less? 

After the Battle of Azanulbizar he had found Radagast near Imladris, worked up about how all the ravens were gone without further notice for they were his knowledge gatherers and watchful eyes.  
Even some Hobbits had noticed the lack of black-feathered birds that year. Gerontius - a young lad three years away from adulthood past then - asked him over a cup of tea why the ravens avoided his beautiful Shire this year. 

Olorin promptly took his leave that day to investigate.  
Apparently the birds flew to the Battlegrounds around the Gates of Moria to feast on dead orcs and to mourn the sad ending of this last battle in the War between Orcs and Dwarfs. There were still a bond between dwarrows and this flock of birds, apparently.  
The Ravens of Erebor had not warned the royal youth against the luring power of gold without reason. Sadly, not even Manwe’s creatures can foresee the plans of a fire dragon or the might of the combined forces of the flame of Undûn and an army of Orcs.  
A moving speck of red caught Gandalf out of his musings as a squirrel hurried trough a bush nearby.

 

The room had gained a pleasant warmness, the smell of Old Toby relaxed Gandalf’s drawn up shoulders while he noticed the all compassing quietness of the whole wing.  
Apparently all the fauntlings were gathered in the Schoolroom now, for the exited screams for adventure and the singing of half-complete songs they had no business knowing yet had faded into an animated chatter farther away. 

Gerontius cleared his throat and spoke to Gandalf’s narrow shoulders,  
„You know, you never asked me about our foolish and adventurous addendum to the Yule tradition here in Tookland.  
Come to think of it, you don’t even know all the proper traditions in the first place.  
That won’t do, Gandalf, you’re my honorable guest and such you need to know at least your niceties to throw out in every possible situation! Well, let me think…“, launching onto a vivid explanation on the correct way to celebrate a Yulefest, Gerontius provided his weary friend with a long needed distraction.

 

Olorin, named Gandalf in this part of Arda, had not only found and met a whole unplanned race of small, peculiar people this last few years, he also seemingly befriended one of them enough to be invited to celebrate his first Yuletide with them.  
He had to decline for the best part of the last two decades as he brought the fireworks to every second Mid-summer party in that time.  
But now that he no pressing matters at hand and as his absence would, most importantly, not be felt as an insult to any party who could miss him this year, he made the promise to his old friend count and stayed over the Yule week to witness the passing of the year.

His heart felt slightly lighter as a silent interest sparked his grey eyes into a more bluish color.  
To be given the opportunity at celebrating the serious event of safely letting go the old year to step into the new one as part of the community was an honor not granted by many people of Arda this days. 

 

Firstly, Gandalf had to appease the Yule Hunting Party (consisting of most unmarried Tooks around 30 years - with an odd Brandybuck thrown in) with some sweet food or a good riddle when they would knock at his door.  
„Ignore their bells and pot-banging and cajoling as much as you can, Gandalf! They might wanted to secure this Smials from the real hunting party and some bad spirits swooshing around when the time is not secure. But, the youth of today is simply…“ 

Secondly, there was a Yule celebration to be held at the first Yule day where in the morning the whole Tookclan would gather in the Banquet hall to decorate a tall pine-tree with shiny red apples (hanging on strings), with golden painted walnuts and with yellow stars made of yellow straw in between the occasional beeswax candle.  
As the party-tree was in Hobbiton, the Tooks had successfully organized a tree for themselves. 

Thirdly, every single Hobbits would hid their Yule present somewhere in the Great Smial and met in the Banquet Hall again - only to set off once more to find the one with their name written on it. Like every tradition in the Shire this was simple in theory and grew complicated over learning the details of practicing it.

 

Gerontius had strictly forbidden Gandalf to give him any further gifts after receiving the most stubborn diamond studs this side of the Farthing some odd years ago.  
To take the Took’s wish literally and gift him with the most opposite things he could think of was one of the finer jokes Gandalf had played - in his own book, at least.  
To see Gerontius face over his new present would give Olorin at least a hundred years back.

Nevertheless: The wizard had prepared himself with some knick-knacks for the fauntlings and pretty mathoms for the older ones before arriving at Tuckborough.  
The different wrappings of paper - all endorsed with a new name, so one had to exchange gifts as often as possible - was a concept so hobbitish Gandalf escaped a sudden snicker. 

 

Gerontius stopped in mid-rant and raised an eyebrow at him, „You know, I think the rest is rather self-explanatory, dear.“  
That summoned two more little chuckles out of Gandalf.  
„If I could make an educated guess lacking any mockery, Gerontius: You eat, drink and sing some merry tunes? That would be how you all celebrate everything - one way or another, my friend.“ 

The old Hobbit hummed his approval.  
He may not understand Gandalf in his entirety, but making him laugh without willfully trying was one trait Greontius could always like in himself.

The peaceful silence became a touchable thing now, and the Old Took wondered how the youngest Hobbits could have made their presents in such a short time to be at tea already.  
The fire was nearly burned down, the window had some iced snowflakes on the edges and the ravens outside flew up in search for another tree to sit in, and to continue their chatter.

Suddenly, the door burst open with the most enthusiastically screeches little mouths can produce. There goes my peace, thought Gerontius, and I’m positive someone needs a couple of serious words from me! 

 

Bilbo’s favorite Yule (last week of November, T. A. 2941)

 

In the East of Area lays a lonely and solitary peak named Erebor.  
If you went north your journey would end at the Grey Mountains, wich have no important settlements to make mention of. 

Further in the East lays the mountain range named Iron Hills, where a settlement of dwarrows under Daín Ironfoot can be found, and in the West of Erebor you will find an former ally of the King of Erebor: the elves of Greenwood with their king Thranduil. 

For over a hundred years now the men and women of Laketown, a city on the Lake to Erebor’s feet, looked upon her slope with dread and distrust - for the dragon Smaug had conquered this mountain from the dwarrows for her richness in gold and jewels, killing many innocent lives and destroying the human city Dale in the process.

 

With all this in mind, one could argue that since the third week in November the lonely Mountain was, by all means, not lonely anymore.  
After Smaug was awoken by Thorin Oakenshield and his company and slain by Bard of Laketown, Erebor was deemed to be an easy picking by Sauron to take.  
Therefore four armies of dwarrows, men, elves and eagles, respectively, had fought an attacking orc army on the 23. November 2941 in a battle later known as the Battle of the Five Armies.  
On the other side, so much death and bloodshed over such a trivial matter as gold gives this mountain’s old loneliness a new and sorrowful depth not many places achieved within mere days.

 

If you would look on the battlefield like the newly retuned ravens of Erebor do in their circles high above ground, you could spot the human tents to the right, where a hunting party departed mere minutes ago to search for edible goods with two elves in search of healing plants in tow. 

To the left the elven tents are arranged in a slight circle, within an interesting male who one can confuse for an elf if it wasn’t for his oldness, an impressive white beard with matching eyebrows and a grey hat no elf is inclined to set upon their head.

The dwarfs who still speak the raven language will discover over the next months the ravens banter over this headgears cause of existence and the ways it could be stolen and best hidden.  
Without the fear for repercussions, one of the younger ravens would have gotten the wizards hat not long after the end of the battle and given their flock a bit of humor back in this precarious time.  
But this stays in the hypothetical realm, of course.

 

And at last, in front of the mountain, the dwarven tents are located, where Roäc and his extended family have gotten the allowance to sleep on the rooftops and ask the cooks for leftovers.  
A young scribe is exited to learn the black birds language directly from the source and his unshakable stubbornness to converse with them - in spite of his heavily bound eyes - gifts Ori a flock of new allies and a steady stream of information.

That is how one single, very tired Hobbit (who gets confused for a small dwarf by bigger folk more and more often) hears about the bones Oín had to righten in the arm of an elven archer.  
And about the elven tents provided to critical wounded men and dwarrows for the duration of their first healing period.  
The hunting parties that get a more diverse crew every time and are even more successful for it. 

Or the grudgingly traded medicine between the dwarvish healers and Thranduil’s first healer.  
(Which should have stayed a fact not spoken of - if not for Oín’s hearing problems flaring up with his temper at the young elven prince walking by. Somehow, not an hour later a surprised Gloín got a grudging apology in form of a new handle for his battle-axe and not a single comment as to where it originated from.) 

 

(first week of December, T. A. 2941)

Bilbo Baggins, honorary dwarf of Erebor and former Master of Bag End, was tired.  
So tired in fact, that he forgot he couldn't eat the meals between second breakfast and supper and did not realize this tragedy until half of his former company gathered in the royal tent to eat a late light dinner in relativ peace.  
Even though this tradition was originally intended to cheer him up after the strenuous days caring for the two heavily wounded princes (and the still asleep King under the Mountain), Bilbo wished for less rambunctious chatter and more peacefulness once in while. 

But the Hobbit saw the emotional strain Fíli and Kíli’s threatened lifes put his friends in. Alongside their own wounds and the struggle to fight the impeding cold and hunger, all of them worried the most over the youngest members of their group - who just happened to be royalty as well. 

Among his life-saving deeds in the quest for Erebor and defending the Durins at the Battlefield, Bilbo’s devoted care for the the three royal dwarfs lifted the guilt of the Company’s shoulders. 

So much so, Bofur and Bifur were instructed to gather ideas for a gift expressing their gratitude and easing the debt their felt towards their Hobbit.

 

(penultimate week of the year 2941 TA)

Three weeks after the battle all Durins had awoken at least twice.  
In Thorin’s case it were a rather short affaire of a handful of minutes, once only to ask for water and the second time to see his nephews alive and beg for Bilbo’s forgiveness.

The princes on the other hand were now alternating between phases of sleep and being awake and needed a constant focus for not injure themselves further.  
Bilbo entertained the two youngster by telling stories his mother would tell him in his youth; stories about faeries, Yavanna’s supposedly creation of the Hobbits and how Gandalf snatched many young Tooks and the stray Brandybuck into adventure nobody came back from. 

 

Soon, the boys got enough strength back to interrogate Bilbo on everything from the Hobbit’s favorite cuisine to his preferred color and day of the year.  
(„No Bilbo, you can’t chose ‚lilac‘ as your color but mean lavender! If they have different words they must clearly be two different co-“ - „Oh, come on, *nadadel, do not overdo it.  
You’ll soon sound like Dori with his nit-picking and then Nori is going to refuse his position as Spymaster again.“ Fíli’s reprimand was made undone by his loving expression and the laughter dancing in his eyes.  
Nonetheless, his little brother made an impressing effort to make Bilbo believe in his now gravely hurt feelings for not only his favorite burglar but the ‚treacherous older brother who is nit-picky himself‘ as well. Which made Fíli burst out with heart-felt laughter for the first time since the battle.  
To his benefit he hadn’t obtained any serious stomach wounds, but laughing still hurt him to send him into a choking fit.)

 

Bofur's chance at quizzing Bilbo on gifts presented itself in one of these situations.  
In the background, the two brothers were slowly bickering about their new favorite topic: which stone they had to work into Bilbos first hair clasp.  
While the Hobbit in question cleansed Thorin’s wounds and Bofur appealed new ointment to them, Bilbo answered his best friends questions about his traditions regarding birthdays, courtships and celebrations in general.

Somehow they ended up at their favored memories of family gatherings gone hilariously gone wrong.  
As they reapplied bandages to the newly salved Fíli, Bilbo recounted the last Yule week he spent at the Great Smials in Tuckborough. 

To the three dwarrows excitement, Bilbo confessed he had told the fauntlings he supervised that for their presents this year they needed to impress Bilbo’s grandfather Gerontius by dueling with walking sticks in front of him - including battlecries and self-made songs at their victory.  
The information that the Thain hated loud noise, activity without clear meaning and any hero who is forced to die was only forwarded later on, after the surprise attack was already over. 

„…The little ones were afraid of Gandalf for years on end, and it is said that my grandfather didn’t leave his room anymore. Except for what was necessary, of course.“ , ended Bilbo and stared into his hands, slight smile on his face.

„You started as a little trouble maker as well, Master burglar! Who would have guessed?“, cheered Kíli and Bofur snickered at Bilbo’s indignant look. 

Before Kíli could start another argument, a drowsy Fíli forwarded a question he had thought about through the entire story: „*Irak’Adad, when do you celebrate this Yule week of yours?“

Over the harsch breath Kíli took in at the endearment and the raised brow and suddenly focused look on Bofurs face, Bilbo started to swear in earnest.  
To Bofurs great amusement Bilbo soon switched to the more colorful swearing in the dwarven tongue and had, surprisingly, a very acceptable pronunciation.

 

As it turned out, Bilbo had entirely forgotten next week was, indeed, the Yule week.  
Against all odds, he was now determined to present all dwarves in the company with Yuleklapp presents to honor at least one of his traditions.  
Luckily for the Company's plannings, Bifur could guilt-trip the Hobbit out of that,  
instead convincing him to care for the princes as long as need be was more than enough as their Yule gift this year.

The two youngest dwarrows got roped into the new conspiracy to Make Master Burglar the two Best Yule Days Ever by fishing for usable informations.

 

(last day of 2941 TA, first Yule Day)

After being forced into running errands for Balin and Oín the whole day, Bilbo was more than a little frustrated with the dwarrows persistence to give only him the important messages to carry out and discuss at length.  
He was also ungrateful towards the elves for their stubborn refusal to do anything above necessity - regarding every aspect of negotiations: food, their intended day to leave and the barest minimum of a treaty one could think of in this kind of situation.

 

'At least I didn’t feel the need to curse Bard for his insecurity today. Oh, look Mum, now I’ve become more of a Took than ever.  
Your father would be proud and your sisters would probably try to make me look foolish again.'  
Bilbo shivered in the cold winter air and quickened his steps towards the front gate of Erebor. 

Since the first real cold hit last week, all the movable patients of dwarven and human heritage had been conferred into the mountain to keep them in better conditions over the winter months. As the elven King was too stubborn to hear even Bilbo out, they were unable to give most elves shelter.  
And even if he didn’t like it, but the transference of his two boys had been done as one of the first. (And yes, 'his'. They started to call him uncle in Khuzdul two weeks ago and he had sworn himself to keep up to that title come fire or high water.)

 

Looking up, he saw the unavoidable flock of young ravens follow him into the massive open gate, all the while telling each other strange things the Hobbit didn’t really want to pry into.

 

He could somehow understand the Old Tooks bias against this family of birds, now that he had seen their doings on the battlefield after the fighting was done, Bilbo mused.  
As Dwalin has put it for his understanding, through: These birds are as beneficial to the battle as the planned fires to burn the orc corpses are, at the very least.  
For their feasting on the dead bodies of these foul creatures helped to "bite the spread of diseases in their bottoms, am I right, *Irak’Nadad?!" 

He smiled fondly at the memory of Oín and Dwalin harassing each other over how applicable the word bottom was for a persons anatomy.  
They had gotten each other expelled from the camp of men and elves of fear for the patients.  
(Hilarity in its purest form ensued as Oín was later that day requested in both camps for his expertise and Dwalin needed for his strength and ability to disinfect wounds professionally.) 

 

Bilbo followed the markings at the walls that Bofur left him earlier this week and hoped for some potential soup to warm up at his arrival in the Company’s wing.  
His feet may be more resilient to the cold due to their thicker sole and the hair, but Bilbo had to walk through half frozen snow on his way back here.  
And the cold stone was not really helping.

 

Opening the door to the rooms he lived in with the two princes,  
Bilbo came to a screeching halt as thirteen voices greeted him with a „Merry Yule Day, Bilbo!“.

He wondered briefly if he was twenty and in his mothers birthing Smial again but then the thee dwarves on makeshift beds,  
ten exited dwarves in self-made hunting masks and one smug wizard standing at the fire place proved his suspicions wrong.

The next thing he registered was the big tree in the corner of the room - made of old clothing, much older tapestries and pieces of dwarven jewelry from the dragons hoard that looked somewhat like apples, nuts and glittering stars. With a good imagination.

„How-…What…Gandalf? What are you all doing here?“, asked Bilbo. There was so much confusion in his voice, such awe paired with indignation that he made the wizard burst out into delighted laughter. „This Company decided to hold an Yule celebration in your honor, Bilbo.“, the wizard explained.  
But before Gandalf could utter another word, different dwarves simultaneously threw their own answer into the room and asking each other, 

„For your save passage through the time that is no time, when Vaire decides what to weave into the next year, you kn-“

„How about we throw him a party like your amad’s family di-“ 

„We are making amends for…“ - „Hush, Kee, he shouldn’t…“

„*Shazara!“, everybody looked up, somewhat surprised to hear Bilbo raise his voice at them - in their own tongue no less.

He could see Ballin massaging his nose on his chair beneath Thorin’s bed and Nori grinning like cat in response to some whispering from Bofur. 

„I honestly want to know what this is all about.  
However, you need to talk one at a time, my friends.  
Bofur, what is this fuss all about?“, demanded Bilbo - with his hands on his hips now instead of hiding under his armpits for warmth.

 

„Well, we wanted to show you our appreciation for your deeds the past year.  
The last month, starting with the battle did it for all of us. Without you there, we would have had to bury someone around this time, and that wouldn’t do it.“,  
Bofur suddenly stopped speaking, looking down to his boots with redder cheeks and his eyes glimmering in the firelight.

Bilbo’s heart felt fuller somehow, as if seeing his best friend so emotional switched him into the same mood instantly.

 

After a slight nudge from Kíli, Fíli continued into the silence: „And, well, apparently they wanted to make you a gift for your right doings in the battle and afterwards.“,  
and Kíli continued for Fíli was out of breath again.  
„Mostly in helping me and nadad to survive the next day and well, stopping the tree-shaggers from killing one of us with a glare.“

Before Bilbo had the chance to reprimand the boy again for using that word, Nori chimed in. 

He halted sharpening his nails to wave at the princes and said: „And these two were our ears for good information for this Yuletide of yours.  
All with hysterically wrapped gifts to be hidden away and a chopped tree full of food you should’ve better eaten instead of making a sacrifice to Yavanna.  
No offense to your Lady, but it sounds like a waste of a good meal.“  
Dori promptly saw his comment as a reason to give his brother a smack on the head.

Bilbo himself had described the tree in the Banquet Hall in a similar way once, refrained from mentioning it, through.

The now emotional Hobbit took the offered opportunity to celebrate with big thanks to all his new friends and family members and embraced this Yule with his whole heart.

 

'Loving each other and holding together in a community, my dear. That would be the reason to make this celebration.  
And Bilbo, one day will come when your Yule week makes you undestand that lesson with your heart, little bumblebee.', told the late Belladonna him once, what felt like a lifetime ago. 

Bilbo suddenly started to cry. Without any hesistance, Kíli and Fíli - who sat on the same bed he was on - cuddled him on either side.  
"What's hurting you, Irak'Adad?", came the hesistant question from the brunette.  
"Ach, little raven, I just realiesed I've surpassed my mother with four years by now.  
She only got 48 before she died, but I'm 51. And I'm both sad and happy about it, if that it possible..."

 

(The tree might have been artistic in his own right - it wasn’t a pine-tree, no matter how much you looked it up, tho. And the gifts were wrapped more than once - the wrappings were racks in different colors, every color representing another dwarf. It might have been the same principle as the tradition and made much more fun, but Bilbo was more than hitched to get it right the next year…)

 

THE END

 

Epilog (60th Annual Yule Celebration of one Bilbo Baggins, Irak’Adad to the King)

 

Merry and Pippin were the first to hopp off the cart and introduce themselves to the King, the King Consort, the king’s brother and of course, the biggest Took of them all:  
Bilbo Took-Baggins, who raised their friend Frodo here in Erebor and who’s celebration of Yule a better reputation in Arda than a Saville-Baggins could wish to dream about.

„This party is going to top the one in the Great Smials last year, Merry! I can feel it in my bones!!“, Pippin whispered to his friend.  
„Well, take that as a fact, Pipp, if just seen that young friend of Frodo, Gímli I think, walking by and quarreling with an elf. So we just need to follow them to get to the right places.“, snickering, the two were gone before their guardians could end their round of introductions.

 

THE END ?

**Author's Note:**

> *nadadel - the best of brothers/favorite bother  
> *Irak'Adad - uncle  
> *Irak'Nadad - cousin  
> *Shazara - silence (What Thorin said in Bag End to shut the Company up ^^)


End file.
